When an absent minded man searches for his yesterday

It is rather odd how disorganized/eccentric/absent-minded people who do not make checklists spend a large part of their lives searching for mundane things like glasses.


But I left my glasses there, right there on the table

The little one by the stair, silly me to keep it by the table

Near the stair, but that is where I left it and now it isn’t there?

My wife had told me to get a spare, but I couldn’t bear the thought

Of separating from my sturdy set,

And here I am again fumbling, bumbling, stumbling,

I thought death undid!

I thought my pretty wife would clean up my things

Before they sprouted wings, and arrange them safe

Just to get a smell of me, a lingering waft of face,

A  touch of my jacket, a feel of the rim,

A pasted photograph of her glorious him,

No, she packed me away.


I want to forget, she said

Throw all the books that he read

Unwalk those roads he did tread

Maybe a new massage in his bed?


© neelthemuse,2012

8 thoughts on “When an absent minded man searches for his yesterday Leave a comment

  1. I too like that “her glorious him,/No, she packed me away.” The triplet rhyme at the end make forgetting difficult. Irony in that the poem started with forgetfulness. Thank you for your read of my surrealist inspired poem.

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